


More Dragon Scales!

by SwordofRebecca



Category: Dragon Quest VIII
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-01
Updated: 2013-11-01
Packaged: 2017-12-31 03:44:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 851
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1026850
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SwordofRebecca/pseuds/SwordofRebecca
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Free Verse Poetry for Kink_Bingo 2013 and for an AO3 auction that took place in MAY!</p>
            </blockquote>





	More Dragon Scales!

**Author's Note:**

  * For [skyefullofstars](https://archiveofourown.org/users/skyefullofstars/gifts).



> These are for both Kink_Bingo 2013 and for skyfullofstars who won an AO3 Auction. About time, eh?

Kink: Pain  
Eight to Marcello about Angelo.

He told me everything about you  
Of the tears you caused him to shed  
Of the times you caused him to bleed, to bruise, to cry out.  
I wish I could do the same to you  
But, he told me all about you.  
How you feel pain and pleasure as one.

I wish I could find a way to make you suffer  
as he suffered at your hands.  
I wish there could be a way to make you cry  
as you did to him.

I hear that you have become Lord High Priest  
The only Templar to have done so  
That will give you happiness you do not deserve  
Taking that from you will cause you anguish  
I will find a way.  
I will make you hurt  
the way you hurt your own brother  
who did nothing to you.  
I will find a way to make you suffer  
as you made my beloved suffer.

I never thought I would write something like this.  
Just thinking of it pains me.  
But, as long as you hurt too, then it's okay.  
As long as my love will be okay, I will do whatever it takes  
to make you pay. 

 

Kink: Dirty Talk  
Marcello to Angelo

I sometimes wonder how you speak to the women you fuck.  
Do you tell them about your dick going inside their cunts?  
Or are you too high class for that?

I sometimes wonder how they speak to you.  
Do they tell you to put your dick inside their assholes  
with your finger in their pussies?  
Or are they too high class for that?

If you were with men, I might be more interested.  
But, no matter who you are with, I will always wonder.  
What do you say? If anything at all.  
Do you talk while fucking someone?  
Or are you too high class for that?

Once I have you for myself.  
Once I go beyond ridiculous dreaming.  
I will be silent while I stare into your blue eyes.  
I will be silent while I am inside you.  
Will you speak to me in a filthy manner?  
Or are you too high class for that?

 

Kink: Anonymity  
Marcello to Angelo

How do you do such things, Angelo?  
You approach someone you do not know and simply kiss them?  
How can that not be anything but offensive?  
How do you allow someone you do not know to open themselves before you?  
You do not know them.  
There is no connection.  
So how can you be physical to someone whose name you do not even know?

Sometimes you can't even see them!  
Yet you allow them to touch you, kiss you, harden you.  
I don't think I will ever understand you.  
I don't think I will ever ask.

 

Kink: Foot/Shoe Fetish  
Angelo/Eight(Hyacinth)

I will never readily admit this, but  
I adore staring at your boots.  
Those cute gray boots with the stitch in the center.  
I love how they wrinkle when you're on bended knee or when you fight.  
I love watching you while you run and I see your boots spring from the earth.  
I love how they contrast your light gray trousers.  
They must be comfortable as I know they are soft and leather.  
I'd like to hug those adorable boots.  
I'd like to smell and kiss the soft, well worn leather.  
I'd like to rub my cheek against them.

But, I look away when you look at me with those adorable brown eyes.  
I pretend not to notice  
when you stare at my black boots. 

 

Kink: Guns/Blades  
(Marcello to Angelo)

These Tiny Daggers

When you get under my breastbone, I dream of you in shackles.  
I dream of small, sharp blades in my hand.  
I grab your hair and watch your blue eyes reflect them.

“You see these?” I demand of you. “You see these? You know what these are?  
These are flechettes.”

You would say nothing. I know you.  
I dream of slowly parting your flesh.  
I wouldn't blindfold you. I want you to watch as  
they bring forth blood.  
I want you to watch me while I make you scream.

These tiny daggers don't seem like much.  
They are darts, basically. Nothing like swords, but they are more than enough.  
You'll have no idea until they meet your flesh.  
Small cuts that seem insignificant until you feel them.  
Until they glide down you, down your chest and maybe a little further.  
Anything to make you scream. 

You won't beg for mercy. I know you.  
You will feel pain and that is more than enough for me.  
I am holding one now, sharp and beautiful.  
I smile as it cuts into my hand, sharp and bright.  
My blood, silver blade.  
You don't feel the way I do.  
I find myself impaling my desk with the bloody tiny dagger.  
When the time comes, I won't be able to harm you in this way!  
Damn you!  
I wish I can figure out what stays my hand.  
What is stopping me from cutting you with  
these tiny daggers?


End file.
